Luke gets stuck in a sleeping bag
by WhirlOfDestruction
Summary: Pretty self-explanatory Crack one-shot. I don't own professor layton nor a sleeping bag.


Luke is stuck

**Another random what-the-heck one-shot from the mind of Jeopardy strike. Not set before/after any adventure in particular. Set after Last spectre/ Spectre's call. **

It was a nice day in December. Well, actually it wasn't a nice day, because it was cold, but Luke was inside by a warm fire, so that didn't really matter. Luke had gone to stay at the university for a while, and had taken a look at the Professor's camping equipment, which the Professor had stowed away in a box for several years. Among the various jumbles was a dated old sleeping bag.

"Aaah Luke, I see you've discovered the joys of camping." observed the professor as he walked in. "Did you ask to look through that?" he asked, pointing at the camping equipment.

"ermm…" answered Luke.

The professor just laughed. "No matter Luke, no matter. I used to go camping as a child outside of London a couple of times. It never worked out quite the way I planned it to."

"In what way Mr. Layton?" asked Luke, intrigued.

"Well, let's put it this way. My tent and sleeping bag became something of a…fish tank during my last visit."

"How long ago was that professor?"

"Many, MANY years Luke. And I shan't be visiting again." He explained.

Rosa poked her head round the door as Layton was discussing his hatred of camping. "Professor, I found an interesting object in your room, some sort of old puzzle box. Would you like to take it, or shall I throw it away?" she asked.

"No thank you Rosa." He replied. "I'll go and see it. What does it look like?"

"It looks sort of like a beetle…"

"Are you sure you haven't found a dead beetle with a very hard shell?"

"No, this is definitely plastic…" they trailed off down the corridor. Luke was left by himself to look at the camping equipment. He inspected the sleeping bag up and down. It certainly didn't LOOK like it would leak- in fact; it looked more like something you'd find on the floor of a horse stable. He shrugged to himself and put the sleeping bag on his head. It smelt. It smelt exactly like something you'd find on the bottom of a horse stable.

He wriggled in further to see if it got any cosier. It didn't. It also got quite hot, since the warmth of the fire also seeped in. His breath was becoming uncomfortable, and the fire also seemed to be baking the horrible smell. Actually, he could see why the professor wouldn't want to camp in this. Well, the professor probably didn't sleep head-first. It was sort of suffocating.

He attempted to shuffle out. But his feet were stuck. He tried again. No luck at all. Okay, what if he twisted round this way and…No! Now his legs were twisted round in his face. He was pressed up against the smelly wall. This is horrible. This is horrible. I want to get out. I want to get out.

Then his life flashed before his eyes. His mother, his father, his childhood in Misthallery, the spectre, the hotel, meeting Emmy, Meeting the professor, the black ravens. A gagillion other things warped through his mind, all he'd done, everything he'd ever wanted, his hopes, dreams, everything…and it would be all ruined by a lowly disgusting sleeping bag.

He wriggled more. The more he shook out, the tighter he was enclosed in. This was TORTURE. He yanked and struggled to get free….he was running out of air…his breath was more restricted in every puff….he was running out of air…this was it…the end….

"Luke, what are you doing with my sleeping bag?" asked the professor, walking back into the room. Luke didn't know what to say.

"Stuck." He replied. That was a bad idea. Now he had even less air. The professor chuckled.

"Easy Luke, just grip your foot over and slide out." Instructed the professor.

"That didn't work! It's not going to work!" sobbed Luke.

"You're out by the way." Noted the professor.

"Oh…thank you Mr Layton…ummm…can you please promise me one thing for the rest of time?" asked Luke very seriously.

"What is it Luke?" asked the professor, equally serious.

"Never take me camping. Ever."


End file.
